Her Eyes Said It All
by Gemini Stones
Summary: Garcia isn't acting like herself, and, being the profiler we all love, Prentiss notices. Femslash F/F.


**A/N: Hello there! So I was looking through the archives and I noticed that there was a lack Prenelope fanfiction, so I decided I would try my hand at filling the void. Rated M for future chapters. And JJ never left, because, well, really we all know that shouldn't have happened. I own neither these characters nor plots/lines from the show (lines taken straight from the show are in italics – don't worry, after this chapter I'll stop quoting, I SWEAR, just bear with me), give credit to all the writers and the show producers for that, but the rest of the ideas are mine. ^_^ ENJOY! And please review, I'll update faster if you do ^_~**

**/text/ - indicates thoughts**

* * *

She sat in her office, surrounded by her faithful screens and keyboards, waiting for the day to begin.

"_Penelope is... hoping the migraine she woke up with this morning goes away in time for the small wonder marathon tonight."_ She typed into

"_You decent?"_ Kevin asked, hesitating at the door.

"_Never" _she replied with her usual suggestive smirk. When she turned around, she saw that her boyfriend was not dressed in his usual bright patterned button-down shirt, but was instead wearing a professional yet completely out-of-character black suit. _"Look at you, did somebody die?"_

"_No, I have a job interview..." _his face was difficult to read.

"_Hey rock star, you up for that systems promotion?"_

"No..." he said, his voice quivered slightly.

"Well, where is it?" Garcia asked, starting to sound anxious.

"Well you see..." he began, telling her all about the overseas position he'd been interviewing for. She was barely registering his words, her mind was racing faster than it did when she was programming and she could barely keep up with the swirling vortex of thoughts. After what seemed like hours, but had really only been a few seconds, she realized that Kevin had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly.

"_Are... are we breaking up right now?"_ she asked, coming half out of her daze.

"No! No, no, I haven't been hired yet" he replied quickly, trying to reassure her while sounding very unsure himself.

"When... when will you know?" she asked slowly, vulnerability present in her usually confident voice.

"Um... well... soon, I guess, since this is the last interview..." he explained slowly, wincing as Penelope's eyes widened.

"L-last interview?" she stammered. "When were you planning on telling me?"

"I'm telling you now..."

"Right... ok..." she said, trying to process. Her migraine was getting worse from the stress and the shock and she felt like crawling under her desk and listening to David Bowie. Just then her phone rang and snapped her back into reality.

"Hello..." she said distractedly, very differently from her usually cheery, not quite appropriate telephone mannerisms. "Oh, oh ok. I'll prepare it and be right there JJ..." after another pause she tilted her head slightly to the side and said "nothing, I'm fine. ...Don't worry about it, I'm fine." Then she hung up the phone, her tone was final and brisk. She sat down at her computer and started typing. Not looking back, she said over her shoulder "There's a new case, I have to get it ready" not adding that she couldn't bear to deal with him right now. Kevin stood there for a moment, poised to reply, but he decided against it, shook his head dejectedly and walked out of the room.

* * *

15 minutes later, the usually cheery analyst walked into the briefing room and gave files to the team, right on cue as always. However, there was no witty banter, no playful flirting, none of the usual Garcia things that made them adore her. She didn't say a word as she passed out the files. She sat quietly in her seat, listening to the profilers discuss the case. She wasn't negligent in her work: when Rossi asked how much rain had fallen in southern Virginia in the days before each body was found, she answered. Mechanically. Accurately, of course, but she sounded very distracted.

/I wonder what's bothering her.../ Prentiss pondered. She paid more attention to the analyst after that, secretly profiling her behaviour. Garcia stared at the white board, much like the other members of the team, but Emily noted that her gaze was unfocussed, and her blink rate was slow. She inferred from this that Garcia's mind was somewhere far, far away from the horrors of the 2 murders being discussed.

"We leave for Suffolk in half an hour, get ready." Hotch said dismissively once JJ had finished outlining the case. The team rose from the table and scattered to prepare for another case.

"Hey, Morgan..." the raven-haired profiler began, "did you notice anything different about Garcia today?"

"You mean the rated G, subdued, completely oppositional personality?" he asked casually.

"You saw it too, then..." her voice was heavily laced with worry.

"Her facebook status says she has a headache, that's probably all it is." He replied, trying to abate her concern. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Yeah... I suppose you're right," she said in a non-committal tone.

"I'm always right," Morgan said with his usual cocky smile.

Emily rolled her eyes and said "Just go do your job before Hotch _mysteriously_ finds out you're checking facebook on the Bureau iPad during a case." She was smiling too, but her tone wasn't entirely joking, so Morgan threw up his hands in fake surrender and strolled away, chuckling as he walked up to Reid who was speed-reading in the corner.

Penelope had gathered her notes and laptop and was walking back to her office. Her head was down and she wasn't walking with her usual peppy, determined stride. She strolled, no, not strolled, trudged, back to her office, as if she dreaded going back to it. Prentiss had noticed this immediately, but, because of the moratorium on intra-team profiling, she wasn't sure whether to address it or ignore it. Suddenly, her reverie was broken by a small thud followed by the analyst letting out a small, exasperated sigh. She had dropped her files all over the floor, and, with her laptop in her other hand, was having trouble retrieving them. Emily rushed to her side, kneeling to pick up the fallen papers.

"Here, let me get that," she said, smiling sympathetically. She gathered the papers and rose to return them. She looked into Garcia's eyes and held her gaze for a moment too long, trying to impart the worry she felt.

Garcia shivered slightly before putting on a facade of her usual self and saying "Thanks, wonderful," with a smile that, to anyone but a trained profiler, probably would have seemed genuine. With that, she strode off, still not quite holding her head up, but trying quite a bit harder to act normal. She thought that she could feel the dark profiler's eyes on her, watching her leave, but she didn't look back. If she had, she would have seen the worried, heartfelt, loving eyes staring back at her, and she might not have ended her day the way that she did.


End file.
